To Forgive and Forget, or Just Forget?
by Banshi13
Summary: What would you give up to be the best? This story is finished, please read and review!


Anything that you see here belongs to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringment is intended, however, the plot does belong to me.  
  
  
  
  
"Ron, for the 24th time, no, I will not let you copy my transfiguration homework!"  
  
"Aw, come on Hermione! Look, look at all the work I've done. I've worked on it the whole night, honestly! I just don't understand it!"  
  
"Have you tried looking at your text book?"  
  
"Oh no, of course not Hermione, I never even though to look there, even though it's the only source of information that I have!"  
  
7th year Gryffindor and Head Girl Hermione Granger tossed her crimpy, light brown locks over her shoulder and gave an exassperated sigh. For the past two days, Ron Weasley had been asking for help with his transfiguration paper, which Hermione readily gave. Transfiguration wasn't Rons strong point though, which became apparent when he slammed down his quill for the third time and broke the feather in half. Now, instead of trying to do the work by himself again, he'd given up and for the past 2 1/2 hours, had been asking to "borrow" Hermiones four scroll long paper on turning a quill and an ink well into a broom and one pair of gloves.  
  
"Come on Hermione," Ron pleaded with her again, aquamarine eyes glistening in the warm glow of the fire's light. He sat down next to her, rested his chin on her shoulder, and looked up at her with the most pitiful eyes he could manage.  
  
But Hermione was not to be deterred. With now a growl of annoyance, she suddenly stood up, which caused Rons jaw to snap against his upper teeth and howl in pain. "Oy!" he cried as he brought both of his long, pail hands to his mouth to massage the pain out.  
  
"What did you do that for?"  
  
Hermione began gathering up her books, quills, and ink well. "One of these days Ron, you're going to figure out that the only thing that will help you is hard work and dedication. Now, if you want me to tutor you in transfiguration, fine. But I will NOT allow you to get by in class by copying off me!" With that said, Hermione turned on her heel and stomped out of the Gryffinor Common Room, up the stairs, and into her private room, leaving Ron with a sore jawline and a raised temper.  
  
"Honestly!" he grumbled to himself as he leaned back against the plush, scarlet couch.  
  
"Alright there, Ron?"  
  
Ron twisted around to see 17 year-old Harry Potter leaning against the wall next to the stairway that led to the boys dormitories. His hands were in his pockets, dark hair disheveled, and a look of pure humor was on his face. Ron turned around again and slumped even more into the sofa, crossing his arms as he did so.  
  
"Yea, I'm alright," he grumbled. Harry pushed off the wall and ambled over to his best friend. "How much of the conversation did I miss?" Harry asked as he sat down next to Ron. The latter gave a snort. "How much of it did you hear?"  
  
Harry grinned, green eyes lighting up once more with amusement.  
  
"Just a little bit about you wanting to copy Hermiones homework."  
  
"I don't understand why she won't let me," Ron said, running a hand through fire red hair. "It's not like I didn't try. Bloody Hell! I've been working on it for two days straight, s'not my fault I can't be the brainiack!"  
  
"Well, you know how Hermione feels about cheating," Harry replied, propping his left foot on his right knee. Ron let his head fall back against the couch. "Yea, I know," his voice trailed off, greenish blue eyes closed to block out the light from the roaring fire.  
  
  
Hermione slammed the door shut to her private room. As Head Girl, she was allowed this luxery; the luxery to study in peace, to read in quiet, and to think in solitude.  
  
She walked over to her desk, which was perfectly organized; finished essays on the left, unfinished on the right, text books that weren't being used at the moment in the center, and her quills and ink on the upper shelf of the desk. On the left side of the second shelf were pictures of Ron and Harry, and then all three of them together. The picture of Ron was repeatedly eating a chicken leg, the one of Harry was polishing his broom, and then one of all three of them had Hermione in between Harry and Ron. While Harry and Hermione were smiling and waving for the picture, the jokester that was Ron felt the need to give them both bunny ears, so the picture consisted of a normally smiling Harry and Hermione, and a devilish looking Ronald Weasley behind them.  
  
Smiling sadly at the memory, Hermione turned turned to her four poster double bed and flopped stomach side up on it, facing the dark red canopy that covered the top. Putting her hands behidn her head, Hermione narrowed her eyes in though. *What just happened down there?*   
  
Oh the obvious answer was simple enough: Ron had wanted to copy her homework, Hermione said "no". Fights like this between her and Ron were common, practically an everyday thing.  
  
But these days, the arguments were more than just nit picky little things. The words were spoken with more vigor, sometimes more anger than Hermione would've thought possible from either herself or Ron.  
  
*Maybe it was the Break-up...*  
  
Her mind wandered back to the end of her fifth year, when, before she had left Ron and Harry, Ron had asked her to go on a date with him. The romance between the two had started there, and had continued until the beginning of thier seventh year, when Hermione had told Ron she wanted to stop seeing him. Ron, understandably, was hurt, confused, angry. But Hermione was to worried about her grades falling. She wanted her last year to be her best year.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Hermione, I don't understand. You're Head Girl! You're the best student at Hogwarts. Don't tell me this is the reason you're doing this."  
  
It was 1:00 am in the morning. Ron and Hermione were in the Gryffindor Common Room as usual, the area lightly lit with soft torches. Ron stood at the mantle of the fire place, arms crossed defiently. Hermione sat to his left in a high-backed chair, legs crossed, hands folded in her lap.  
  
"What do you want me to say, Ron?" she stiffly asked. "Do you want me to lie to you? Tell you that I've found someone else? I just don't want to ruin my chances this year."  
  
"Again: You are Head Girl! You've got no chances to ruin!"  
  
"Just because I'm Head Girl now doesn't mean I'll be Head Girl for the rest of the year! If my grades begin to drop, the next girl in line will receive the title. I can't let the happen!"  
  
"Your grades WON'T drop! What's so different now that you and I are seeing each other? Since first year, you've always been with Harry and me, always doing mostly everything we do. Your grades didn't drop last year, and we were together for our entire 6th year. Now that we're seventh years, no that we've got seven more months left here, you want to break it off because you're about your grades? I don't buy that Hermione!" He sliced his hand side ways and out to emphasise his point.  
  
Hermione looked down at her hands, twiddleing her fingers nervously. "I'm sorry you feel that way." Her voice was tiny, almost choked up. She raised her head, her eyes brimming with tears that were anxious to fall. She had to leave the room. She had to get out, she couldn't let him see her like this.  
  
Taking a deep breath, hardening her resolve, she stood up and gazed at him. "I'm sorry, Ron," was all she said before she turned from him calmly and walked towards the stairs to the girls dormitories. As soon as the common room lights were out of sight, Hermione tore up the rest of the stairway.   
  
Rushing into her room, she slammed the door shut and tried to blink back the tears that had formed. It was no use. The clear water spilled out over her eyes and onto her flushed cheeks. Putting a hand over her mouth, she tried her best to stifle the sobs that wanted to pass through her lips.  
  
Oh, how she hated herself right now. Why did she have to be so concerned about her marks? Why did she have to care? Why couldn't she be more like Ron, and simply take what came to her? But she knew why she couldn't do that. Truth be told, Hermione had known that this would be the reason for a split between her and Ron, should they ever decided to go their seperate ways. The only thing Hermione excelled at was her school work. She knew she was the smartest witch in all of Hogwarts. But the only reason she had received that title was because she'd wanted to be good at something. Hermione had never been athletic, she didn't have a good voice, she was a terrible dancer...when she entered Hogwarts, no-one knew her. It was like she was being given a second chance to say, "I'm the best," and Hermione saw that chance and took it.  
  
So, she engrossed herself in her studies, making everyone believe that she was a complete brain, and it worked. Hermione was on the honors list her third and fourth year, she had been a prefect her fifth and sixth year, and finally, she had been granted the title of Head Girl her seventh year.  
  
It felt so good to Hermione to be known as the best student at Hogwarts. It felt so good that she never wanted to loose that feeling.  
  
After a couple of wipes of the cheek, Hermione walked numbly to over to her bed. She felt horrible. She was angry at herself, angrier than she had ever been before. *This is what I have to give up to be the best* she though as she lay down on her bed, still in her school uniform.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Now, as Hermione stared at the ceiling, she understood what had really scared her. It wasn't her grades going down that had frightened Hermione, no, it was loosing the title of "best". Loosing the respect that she had worked so hard for for the past six years of her schooling, being known only as "Hermione" and not as "The Best Student at Hogwarts". She had seen Ron as an obsticle in that. Therefore, she had removed the problem by removing Ron from her life.  
  
She had to set things right.  
  
Rubbing her eyes with her hand, Hermione rose to a sitting position, legs dangeling off the bed. She stood up, went to the door, opened it, and walked downstairs into the common room. Instead of just Ron, Harry was now also there. Hermione smiled to herself. Harry was someone she and Ron could always count on, no matter what the situation. Slowly walking over to stand beside the couch, Hermione cleared her throat, and both boys looked up at her.  
  
"Hey Herms," Harry greeted her lightly. Another reason why Hermione was fond of the young Potter. He never took sides.  
  
"Hello Harry," she gave him a weary smile, and her cinnomin brown eyes fell on Ron. He didn't look happy at all.  
  
"Well, I have the same Transfiguration paper to do," Harry said, getting up, "so, I'll leave you to it," he patted Hermione on the shoulder and scooted past her towards the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Hermione crossed to the high-backed chair closest to the portrait entrance and sat down, crossing her ankles and folding her hands in her lap. Ron propped his ankle up on his left knee and shifted his gaze to the left, so as he couldn't look at Hermione. The silence that followed was the most tense one since the break-up. Finally, Hermione let out an audible sigh and tentatively gazed at her companion.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
He didn't answer her, didn't even turned his head to recognize her semi-alto voice. She tried again. "Are you going to talk to me at all?" This time, Hermione both saw and heard Ron take a deep breath, but no voice passed through his thin lips. Nothing to do now but lay everything out on the perverbial table.  
  
Here went nothing....literally.  
  
"Is this about the homework or about the break-up, Ron?"  
  
That struck a nerve. Even though Ron didn't say anything, she heard his sharp intake of breath, saw the unknowing twiddeling of his thumbs. She looked down at her own hands, which had managed to grasp each other so tight, they, especially the fingers, were now white.  
  
"What do you think?" he asked, with some malice behind his words. Hermione knew that that wasn't all Ron could give her though, and she was grateful that he kept what control he did in his voice. "The break-up," she answered numbly.  
  
"You'd be right."  
  
She gave a slight nod, her head rising, brown hair being pushed bck by somewhat trembling hands. Ron was now looking at her, aquamarine eyes were now a dull green in the light of the fire. She couldn't place the look on his broad, pale face; there were so many emotions displayed there: Hurt, anger, confusion....even a gaurded expression haunted his eyes. Another stiff, unforgiving silence followed, hovering over the room like the cliche thunderstorm cloud in muggle cartoon shows.  
  
Hermione continued to look Rons way, but her eyes didn't quite reach his face. Then, in her periffreal vision, she saw him get up, hands jammed into pockets, and walk over to the mantle.  
  
"After you left the common room that night, I...stayed down here. I sat on the sofa, I thought about what you'd said," he gave a small 'tut' and pushed back his red hair, "and I thought to myself, 'I know that her grades weren't the only reason why did this. There had to be something else, some other reason. And then...do you know what I thought?" He turned so that his body was facing Hermione. The latter gave a meak shake of the head, her eyes still focused away from him.  
  
"I thought that it was something that I had done. Maybe...maybe one to many pranks, maybe me spending to much time with Harry and the other quidditch team members...even asking you to help me with my homework to many times crossed my mind," he gave a bitter chuckle. "But somehow...I figured that in any of those options was the case, you would've told me about them long before you decided not to see me anymore."  
  
Hermiones gaze had begun to drift back to Ron as he listed off reasons as to why Hermione had decided to leave him, and she now shook her head vehemently at him. "It wasn't any of those things, Ron-"  
  
"Then WHAT WAS IT?" Ron smacked his hand against the mantles shelf. Hermione jumped a little in her seat and looked at Ron wide-eyed. But Ron continued, albiet a little quieter, but his voice and eyes no less intense. "For the past three months, I've felt like I'd done something horrible enough to make you want to break-up with me! It came out of the blue-"  
  
"I know..."  
  
"-and I KNEW that when you were telling me that you didn't want to lose the title of Head Girl, that you were worried about your marks going down..I KNEW that that was a lie-"  
  
"Ron..."  
  
"Do you know what that DID to me?" he turned full-front now, eyes blazing with the hidden pain and anger of three months. Hermione swallowed the lump that had been forming in her throat for the past five minutes. Again, she shook her head and gave a weak, whipsered, "no" in response.  
  
"I felt like I couldn't be trusted, and after 6 1/2 years of friendship, I felt like one of the slugs that I'd thrown up during our second year. I didn't know how much I valued your trust, your friendship...I didn't know how much I valued you...until you were gone."  
  
Hermione was awe-struck. She'd never had any indication from Ron that he cared for her that much. Swallowing the lump in her throat was becoming a useless excerise, as tears began to fall. She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to control the cries that threatened to escape her lips. When she was able to speak again, she cleared her throat and said, "I didn't know...I didn't realize I'd hurt you that much..."  
  
As she regained control of herself, Ron watched her. One side of him was saying that Hermione was more than likely just as hurt as he was, but another side of him was saying that she had brought this all on herself, and on him as well.  
  
"Why did you break-up with me?" he finally asked. He kept his eyes on her, wanting to see every emotion that passed on her face, wanting to make sure that this time, he got the truth. He waited patiently for her tears to stop flowing, for her breathing to become controlled, and he listned attentively when she began to speak.  
  
"At first...it WAS because of my grades," she rose her head to look at him. "I thought...I was afraid that if I stayed with you, my seventh year would see the fall of my marks, and that I would no longer be Head Girl at Hogwarts," she took a deep breath. Ron was still watching her closely, and she forced herself to look into his eyes. "But, as I...as I thought about it...I realized that what I was really frightened of was...was not being the best." She watched him now, closely, wanting to make sure that he believed her. The only response that she received was the raising of thin, red eyebrows. She rose to her feet, crossing her arms, but not moving towards him. "I've never been good at anything. I can't sing, I can't dance..I don't play Quidditch, I'm a horrible cook..." she gave him a small smile. "I was just tired of not being able to do anything well. So when I came to Hogwarts," she shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know, it was like I was being given another try at being able to do something. I just threw myself into the school work."  
  
Ron had taken a more relaxed posture now. If it was possible, he now seemed to be listening with more interest.  
  
"I didn't think about those things when you told me you want to start dating," Hermione continued, "but in September...everything just bore their full weight. I guess I got scared and I...I felt that I had to eliminate everything from my life that didn't have something to do with school..." she trailed off, looking at Ron with...she didn't know what with. Hope for his understanding, need for his forgivness...maybe even a desire to be with him again.  
  
Ron was nodding his head as he was lookng at the floor. "You believed that if you spent to much time with me, you would neglect your studies and you wouldn't be the best at anything anymore." Hermione nodded, chewing on her lip nervously. Ron sighed and looked at her again, and what Hermione saw both unnerved her and made her heart beat faster with pain.  
  
Ron Weasley was crying.  
  
It happened so quickly that Hermione didn't realize what she was doing. She crossed to him in four short strides and gathered him in her arms. She too couldn't keep her tears from flowing anymore, and the two wept together, holding eachother as though the other were a life preserver. "I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione sobbed into his shoulder, one hand on his back, the other around his neck and reaching over to cover her eyes as they kept pushing the tears out. She felt Ron nod his head on her shoulder, felt him grasp her tighter.  
  
How long they stayed like that, neither of them knew. Ron eventually pulled away from Hermione and cupped her face in both his hands, wiping her tears away with smooth thumbs. He pressed his forehead to hers, arms gong around her again as their tears slowed. He lifted his forehead off hers and kissed it gently. Hermione smiled slightly, not a goofy smile, but a soft smile of gratitude. She looked up at him, light brown eyes meeting his aqua orbs. "Am I forgiven?" she asked, still a slight hint of fear in her voice.  
  
In response, Ron nodded slowly and lowered his head, silently asking permission from Hermione. She granted it and met his lips with her own, a light, sweet kiss that the two had missed for three months. Ron pulled away from her and touched his forehead to hers again.   
  
"Forgiven."  
  
  
From the dormitory stairs, two green eyes watched the now reunited couple. Harry pushed up the glasses that had slid down the ridge of his nose and smiled. Standing carefully so that he wouldn't make any noise, he padded his way to his room, and quietly closed the door. 


End file.
